


Come Into My Parlour

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Held Down, Hunt Gone Wrong, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Manhandling, Mute Castiel (Supernatural), Other, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Rape, Rimming, Scared Castiel (Supernatural), The Winchesters Take Care of Castiel, Unconscious Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 16:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20294884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Warren Baker was arrested and executed for what he did to the men he lured into his home.But his spirit is still there, and that means someone has to deal with him.Given the similarity between Castiel and the man’s victims, Dean has misgivings about taking the angel along on the hunt.But he’s an angel.  He should be safe enough.Wrong.





	Come Into My Parlour

**Author's Note:**

> Additional content warning: Cas is badly hurt and abused in this story. Being an angel does not protect him at all and the Winchesters are not able to protect him from Baker’s powerful spirit.
> 
> Graphic content herein.

“So we don’t have long,” Sam said. He pushed open the door to Warren Baker’s old house, and they stopped there to peer inside, eyes piercing the gloom.

“Dark in a few hours,” Dean said. They wouldn’t need torches before then, and he had no plans for any of them to still be in the house when night fell.

Bad shit happened in this house at any hour, but they knew it got worse then.

“Then we should start searching now,” Cas said, and eased them both aside and went in.

Dean wanted to grab him, but followed instead. This place made him uneasy in a way few jobs did, but then no house was quite like this house.

Even though the FBI had been through it, and found all the bodies of Baker’s victims, Dean knew the old guy himself was still around, his presence lurking.

He could feel he was being watched, they were all being watched, and Dean didn’t want his family around that bastard even if he was just energy now, Cas especially.

He’d seen the pictures of Baker’s victims, and only Cas seemed to have missed the resemblance between them, and him.

But before they left, Dean knew Baker would no longer be a threat to anyone who came in this place. The anchor tying him to the mortal realm, an old leather belt he’d used on the poor bastards he raped and tortured here, wasn’t on him when he was arrested, and nobody had been too bothered to look for it.

Nobody had known the part it’d play in the future suffering.

Tonight, though, they’d find it and burn it and that would be that.

But it was a big house and, though he hated the thought of letting Cas _or_ Sam out of his sight, Dean had to admit it’d be quicker if they all searched alone.

++

For the third time since he’d entered the house, Cas felt something brush his clothes.

He turned around, again, wondering if it was Dean or Sam, or if he’d touched something in passing, but there was nothing and no one near him.

Which probably meant it was the ghost of Warren Baker.

Cas glared around him. Perhaps Dean had been right; perhaps having him on this hunt, when he was so similar to the other men Baker had lured and trapped here, was a bad idea.

On the other hand, he could deal with a ghost, even if he could no longer dispatch one, and if he could keep Baker occupied long enough that he left Dean and Sam alone in their search, then that would be a sound strategy.

But, as he came to the top of the stairs, the first door ahead of him swung open.

Cas stopped. He remembered the house plans from when the three of them had been planning this hunt, and that was where Baker had murdered nearly all of his victims after torturing them first.

Baker had, apparently, called it ‘The Playroom.”

And it seemed he wanted to play with Cas, there, too.

It was entirely possible the belt Baker was attached to was in that room. Even though it was obviously a trap, Cas knew it had to be searched and better him to do it than either of the brothers.

He stopped on the threshold and peered inside.

The room was mostly empty, now, having been stripped of its contents since they probably counted as evidence in the investigation.

Not many places to search, but enough, and Cas took a few steps forward.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Cas turned slowly to face the room.

He couldn’t see Baker, but he could _feel_ him and he was close, closer, closing…

A cold hand stroked its way down his cheek, and cupped his jaw and Cas slapped at it.

Nothing happened. The touch remained, and then something brushed him through his pants, chilled flesh against his own, as if he was naked, and he swatted at Baker again, but with the same result.

That…. That was impossible.

For the first time, Cas felt more than uneasy. 

He felt afraid, but he was here now, and this murderer wouldn’t stop him from searching the room, and finding that belt if it was here.

He turned away, and felt a brief surge of _hate_, almost heard a man’s voice snarling at him….

_you little prick, you turn your back on me, I’ll teach you your place_

And then something hit him hard in the back, and knocked him down onto his knees.

Cas made to get up, but a presence settled over him, pinning him there on his hands and knees, knocking his legs apart.

A hand grabbed his jaw and tilted his head back, forcing him to look up even if there was nothing there to see.

_gonna make you scream for me, boy, scream your throat raw, don’t care _what_ you are_

He needed help.

“Dean. Sam!”

++

Dean jumped back as the biggest fucking spider he’d ever seen scuttled out of its hidey hole; he cursed the house he was in and that bastard whose fault it was they were all here.

He tipped the old box over, but it contained junk, nothing else, certainly no belt, and he left it there before leaving the room.

They had to find the belt soon; Dean glanced at his watch, and they didn’t have much time left.

The house was already getting darker, and it was during those hours that Baker seemed most active.

Seemed to have more power, and that didn’t make sense, but who was to say that Baker hadn’t dabbled with shit, while he was alive, that he should have left well enough alone.

They’d probably never know; once they found the belt, anyway, it wouldn’t matter, and Dean moved towards the next door.

And that was when he heard it. His name, screamed, and Sam’s, and he knew that voice.

Cas.

Dean ran for the stairs that led to the second floor, nearly tripping, but there was no sign of the angel.

He heard another shout, muffled, and there was only one room it made sense for Cas to be in, if he’d run into trouble.

_The Playroom_.

“Sam!” Dean yelled and then he took a run at the door, and slammed his shoulder into it, and it gave, spilling him into the room.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust from the better light in the hall to the shadows through the door. The windows in there were all blocked up, but that didn’t stop him seeing in detail what was wrong with his angel.

Cas was on his hands and knees, and it looked like he was trying to get up but he couldn’t.

“Cas?”

“It’s him,” Cas panted. “He’s...Stop!”

Dean had an iron crowbar with him, just in case, and he swung it hard through the air above the angel.

The air seemed to spark then darken, and Cas let out a relieved huff and started to sit back onto his heels.

Just as fast, he was slammed back down, into the same position as before, and he snarled at the air.

Fuck. If iron didn’t do more than graze Baker’s spirit, then they were in big trouble.

Cas whined, a small, hurt nose that made Dean want to burn the room.

“Is he hurting you? Cas, what’s he…”

The angel shook his head, but Dean had to know. He maybe couldn’t stop Baker, but if he knew what was going on he could at least try.

And he’d know how to treat Cas, after.

“He’s…”

Cas shuddered, his full body shaking, and he went pale.

“Cas!”

The angel shook his head, but then surrendered. “He’s…. He’s touching me. His hands are cold. They’re...He’s running his fingers down my back.”

Dean knew better than to lash out with the bar again, and carefully crouched down next to Cas and reached his hand out to just above the trench coat.

The air there was definitely colder, but he couldn’t see any sign of the unwanted touching; Cas’s clothing was undisturbed, but from the angel’s physical reactions he was definitely experiencing something pretty unpleasant.

“Get off him, you fuck,” Dean snarled, and he heard someone laughing, deep and sour, and then he was knocked back onto his ass.

“Dean!”” 

“I’m okay,” Dean said. He got back onto his knees and looked around him. There was nothing in here to use, and they had a bag of rock salt in the car, but then what?

Put a circle around Cas, trapping Baker in there _with_ him?

They had to find that damn belt, and then Cas cried out, face screwed up in pain.

“Cas, talk to me!”

“He’s…. I don’t know what he’s doing!”

“Then where, Cas, tell me where!”

Dean hated himself, but he had to know. This was like making Cas go through this shit twice, but he had a suspicion he knew what Baker was doing. He had to hear it though, because when they got out of here, he and Sam would have their angel to fix and that meant knowing everything.

And it let Dean keep track of Baker’s presence since he couldn’t actually see him.

“He’s...he’s holding me open...something...Dean, he’s putting something inside me….”

No, no fucking way, but Dean had read the autopsy reports, and the account of the one guy who’d escaped Baker’s house, and eluded him, hurt and naked and running for his life, long enough to flag down a car which just happened to belong to an off duty sheriff’s deputy.

_He kept me on all fours and he licked me, shoved his tongue in there, and when I tried to move, he’d choke me out_

“Cas. Cas, don’t fight him, just stay still, okay?” Not that he thought Baker could really choke Cas, but he didn’t want to find out.

Cas strained, but then went still, aside form the trembling still moving through his body.

And then he was lurched forward, and he screamed, and Dean startled.

“Get off of him! Cas!”

“He’s… Dean, he’s...please, please, make him stop! He’s in me!”

Dean knew it’d do no good, but he had to try something, and he lashed out with the crowbar, but something caught it this time, and it was wrenched from his hands and brandished before being swung at him.

He ducked out of the way, and the crowbar flew into the shadows, landing with a thump out of sight.

“Dean? Cas?”

Holy fucking shit, where had Sam been?

Dean went as near the door as he dared, not wanting to risk being shut out, and yelled down.

“This bastard has Cas; did you find it?”

No sense in letting Baker know more than he had to.

“No!” He heard footsteps and then Sam was at the top of the stairs.

“Just keeping looking!” Dean yelled as Cas screamed behind him.

Sam disappeared into the next room, and Dean heard him turning things over, searching frantically.

It could take hours, yet, but if two of them were searching…

“Cas, I need to help him.”

The thought of leaving the angel like this, even when Dean couldn’t stop the abuse, turned him cold, but the quicker they found and burned the belt, the quicker they could free Cas.

“Please,” Cas panted, and Dean realised he’d been made to come. His head hung between his arms, sweat dripping from his face. “Dean, don’t leave me alone with him.”

Dean got as close as he could, and sank down to sit next to his angel. “Okay, Cas. Talk to me, tell me everything. Please, okay?”

Cas sucked in a breath, and maybe he could get choked out, maybe it wouldn’t hurt him, but it wouldn’t be pleasant, so he was glad he’d told the angel not to struggle.

“He’s touching me again...everything..uh, that…”

Cas shook his head, and Dean could see him trying to pull away, twisting his upper body as if something was hurting him there.

“Cas,” he said, quietly. And he hated every word. “Just let him, okay? We’re gonna get you out of this.”

“Dean, I-“

Before he could finish, Cas was flipped roughly over onto his back, his hands pinned above him, legs spread, and it wasn’t hard then to know what was happening, again, because Cas was being lurched forward, his body arching up as if something was holding him in place while it fucked into him.

“Fuck!” Sam, Sam was yelling, and Dean shot to his feet, heart thudding harder with each second, because Baker couldn’t be in two places, he couldn’t be raping both Cas and then turning his attention to Sam at the same time.

But when he dared lean out into the corridor, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

A thick, worn brown leather belt, with a dull brass buckle, came shooting out of the room Sam had been searching.

It hovered, for a moment, before hitting the floor and undulating towards Dean like a snake.

It was making for the room.

_and when he was fucking me, he whipped me with the belt and then he put it around my neck and_

No.

Dean heard Cas screaming for him, he’d left the room without even realising but he had to stop this now.

He threw himself on the belt, crying out as it lashed at him, the buckle tearing a line open along his jaw.

It was like a living thing, but Dean held on because if it got past him, he knew what Baker would do with it.

Sam came rushing out of the room, and Dean quickly knotted the belt on itself, tying it tight, and lobbed the wriggling mess at his brother.

“Burn it,” he yelled, and then he ran back into the room.

Cas was being held still, panting, dangling in Baker’s hold like a limply stuffed toy, because Baker was waiting.

Waiting for his favourite implement of torture, and it wasn’t going to come.

Dean glared at where he imagined the twisted bastard to be.

“We’ve got you, you fuck,” he said, and then he smelled the thick stink of burning leather and Baker’s scream was audible; this time he the one crying out in pain.

Dean caught a hint of a physical presence, and then he threw himself forward, arm wrapping around Cas’s body, pulling the angel over and out of Baker’s hold before tucking Cas underneath him.

There was an flare of smoke and sparks, a little heat, and then it was done.

Even the house seemed...different, but Dean didn’t care about that.

He rolled carefully on to his side, and stared at the angel beneath him, still, eyes closed, paler than Dean had ever seen him.

“Cas? Cas!””

Sam raced to them, and froze as he saw them.

“Dean, is he…”

Dean pressed his fingers to the angel’s throat, felt himself sag with relief when they found a pulse.

“Passed out. C’mon, let’s get him the hell out of here.”

++

They cleared out of town fast, and found a quiet road to pull in on, tucking the car out of sight.

Cas came to while Dean was grabbing their gear and stuffing it in the trunk, and Sam kept him still and quiet, until Dean got back and they could get moving.

Now, it wasn’t hard to see why he’d passed out.

He was a mess.

They stripped him carefully, hating how he was trying not to flinch, and then looking apologetically at them every time he did.

“It’s okay,” Sam said. “Cas, it’s okay.”

Baker had left his marks on Cas (and Dean had a feeling they were inside and out). He was bruised and scraped, on his front and his back, deep angry looking marks around the angel’s chest, upper arms, hips, wrists, thighs, ankles.

There were a couple of clear bite marks, and Cas’s underwear was damp.

Dean didn’t say anything about that, just bagged it up with the rest of his clothes while Sam started treating the worst of the injuries.

Turned out he had a couple of cracked ribs, too.

Yeah, Baker had definitely got some extra juice from somewhere if he could do all this to their angel.

The fact that he wouldn’t be doing it again was small comfort.

He folded a blanket over Cas’s lap, and cleaned Cas up as best he could underneath it, and then he and Sam got him dressed again, in one of Sam’s hoodies and a pair of Dean’s sweats.

He still wasn’t saying a damn thing, and that scared Dean more than anything.

So he left the driving to Sam, and settled in the back seat, and guided Cas to rest against him.

It might take a while for Cas to feel safe again, to be able to talk to him, but Dean had no plans on going anywhere.

They were there for him, their angel, no matter how long it took to get him okay again.

Even if it was forever.


End file.
